


"what's meant to be will always find a way" —trisha yearwood

by Pinkmanite



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy, M/M, Reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite
Summary: Dylan Strome is a Chicago Blackhawk.





	"what's meant to be will always find a way" —trisha yearwood

Bowman pulls him aside after practice, which, yeah is a little weird. Alex is still a little out of breath and he’s gross and sweaty and his face is all red, and then there’s Mr. Bowman in his full suit.

He must sense something because he pats a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll only take a minute. I just want to ask you something.”

Alex nods, but he fidgets with his glove, rightfully nervous.

“Relax, it’s nothing bad, I promise.”

Somewhere in the back of his head, Alex can hear a familiar voice, not his own, tutting _never trust your GM_. Alex takes the warning but he still dutifully follows Bowman off to the side, out of earshot from the rest of the guys still filing off the ice.

“I know what it looks like on paper, but I want to hear it from you. What’s your experience playing with Dylan Strome?”

And suddenly, everything in Alex freezes. It’s like time stops, like he forgot how to move, how to breathe autonomously. He nearly chokes on his next breath, the tingling of numb, of shock, flitting from the tops of his ears to the tips of his finger.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to sound as normal as he can, and he’s quite proud of himself. “What was that?”

Bowman makes a face but he repeats himself. “How do you feel about Dylan Strome?”

Just as quickly as he had frozen up, Alex snaps back into it, and it’s like he’d been waiting for this question, for this moment, his whole entire career. Life, maybe. Okay, that’s a little dramatic, but once it processes, once it gets through his head, Alex has so much to say and it all comes out at once.

“He’s incredible, I know he’s had a tough time in Arizona, but when he clicks, he really clicks. Great learner, and even better work ethic. One of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Bowman nods along, intrigued enough. “What about as a linemate?”

Alex feels himself light up, but he hopes it doesn’t show too much. “He’s smart on ice, always knew exactly what I wanted him to do. Vice versa, too, we’re pretty similar in that way. How we see plays and whatnot.”

“You think the chemistry would still be there?” Bowman says a little bit more carefully.

The thing is, Alex isn’t a hundred percent sure. It’s been a little more than a year, but when Alex pictures it, when Alex thinks about the many memories of beautiful passes and assists and plays with Dylan, he feels almost certain.

“Absolutely.”

 

~

 

Alex considers calling right away, but it’s all still pretty hush and he figures waiting another fifteen minutes to get home is probably worth avoiding the risk of fucking this up for them.

That said, as soon as he makes it through the door, Alex doesn’t waste a single second. He’s still shrugging off his coat and greeting Ralph. “Hey Siri, facetime Dyl, please?”

It rings through once, then beeps for an unsuccessful call. Alex makes a face, tries again.

This time, Dylan answers on the second ring.

 _“Sorry, babe, sorry,”_ Dylan sounds winded over the tinny speaker. _“Just got out of the shower.”_

“You running marathons in the shower?” Alex hums, just a little suggestive, but mostly amused.

 _“Shut up,”_ Dylan huffs, but he doesn’t sound the least bit upset. _“I ran to answer the phone, dickhead.”_

“Aw, how sweet,” Alex grins. “True love, right there.”

 _“Yeah, yeah,”_ Dylan says as he puts the phone down and starts toweling off his head. Alex can only see from chest up, but it’s still a nice view. He isn’t shy when he sighs, content. Dylan rolls his eyes, snaps his towel at the phone camera. _“Alright, so you have me? What’s up?”_

“Why does something have to be up, why can’t I just enjoy the company of my boyfriend?”

Dylan gives him a pointed look, then picks the phone back up. _“I don’t know why you pretend like I don’t_ know _you,”_ he says, falling into his bed, relaxed.

Alex rolls his eyes, but he’s still grinning, fooling absolutely no one. “So how’s your unofficial trade request going?”

He hates to see Dylan’s face fall for that split second, but it’s a necessary sacrifice for the overall prize here.

Dylan tries to shrug it off. _“Same as always. Ryan’s been kind of a dick, rubbing it in my face.”_

“He didn’t even want the trade, what’s his problem.”

_“That’s probably why, he’s probably just taking it out on whoever.”_

Alex makes a face. “Still not cool.”

 _“Yeah, but,”_ Dylan sighs, runs a hand over his face. _“It’s whatever. I’ll get out of here eventually.”_

“Well,” Alex starts stretching out the vowels. “Eventually might not be so far out.”

 _“How do you figure?”_ Dylan says, still a little sad, not picking up what Alex is trying to put down here.

“Bowman pulled me aside for a chat today,” Alex says carefully. “Asked about you, about us.”

It’s maybe kind of endearing that the first thing Dylan thinks here send him into a mild panic. _“About_ us _? How did they find us out? What did he say to you, oh my god, he better not have said—”_

“No,” Alex interrupts, “not _us us_ but like, us as linemates, dumbass. You’re sweet, though.”

 _“Oh,”_ Dylan relaxes first, but then it starts to sink in. Alex can’t help but laugh when it hits him, when Dylan startles and sits upright again. _“Oh!”_

“He’s headed down there on Friday. Said he’s not making any promises, but.” Alex trails off and shrugs.

 _“Watch it be a one for one, you for me,”_ Dylan groans.

“Oh shut up,” Alex laughs. “He specifically asked me about our chemistry and like, us _together,_ so cheer up and start praying, bud.”

They talk a little bit more, lighter stuff. Practice, the boys, Ralphie. There’s talk about American Thanksgiving, and it’s fun and familiar, bickering about it with Dylan. It’s all a front, Canadian honor or whatever, because Dylan was certainly into it back in Erie, when their billet family would go all out for them. Alex knows from firsthand experience that Dylan is weak for some good old American apple pie to top off his turkey dinner. Alex knows these kinds of things.

But eventually, Dylan has to go, has plans with whoever.

“See you soon, babe.”

_“See you soon.”_

 

~

 

 **dyl:** babe

 **dyl:** it’s happening!!!!

 **dyl:** tell nick sorry 😬

 **dyl:** but also that vinnie says hi

 

~

 

It’s a miracle that Dylan makes it to Chicago at all.

“What are you wearing?” isn’t exactly the first thing that Dylan expects out of Alex’s mouth, but that’s what he gets.

“Clothes?” Dylan looks down at his outfit, takes in his jeans and his pea coat. He didn’t pull out all the stops just for a flight, but he doesn’t think it looks too sloppy.

“No I mean,” Alex huffs, but starts to laugh. “Where’s your real coat?”

Dylan blinks. “I didn’t have it in Glendale. It’s at home.”

Alex looks at him quite seriously. “Dylan.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s literally like three feet of snow outside.”

Objectively, Dylan knew there was a snowstorm, which is why flight kept getting delayed. Like he understood that much. But he didn’t consider the part where he’d actually have to walk through it regularly, now.

“It’s fine, we can stop at Canada Goose at some point, it’s not far from my place,” Alex sighs. He pulls his toque further down and grabs one of Dylan’s bags. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”

“ _You’re_ starving?” Dylan repeats. “Dude, I could eat like three meals right now.”

“You always can,” Alex quips, leading him through the crowd and out the door, toward the parking garage. The snow is still falling, a little lighter now, in obnoxious fluffy clumps that land lightly all over the fibers of Dylan’s coat.

“Missed this shit,” Dylan sighs, soft.

When he looks again, Alex is watching him, a little grin on his face. “Not quite the homeland, but better, yeah?”

Dylan steals a look, a quick glance over to really check out Alex. “Definitely better.”

 

~

 

The first thing Dylan does when they get in Alex’s car is take a precautionary glance around. Clear.

The second thing he does is grab him by the neck and kiss him, dirty and wet and _hard_ because wow, he’s _here_ , he’s back with Alex. Where he belongs. And it’s real, if he can feel it like this, it’s fucking real.

Alex startles at first, even though he really should’ve seen it coming, but he melts into it right away, lets Dylan pull him in and angle his head the way he wants. God, Dylan missed this, missed the way Alex feels under his fingers, the way Alex feels on his lips.

Dylan pushes it further, sucks on Alex’s bottom lip and then bites, gentle but firm. He buries his face in Alex’s neck, nuzzles the familiar warmth, licks along the pulse point. He scrapes his teeth against it, and just barely starts to suck there before Alex pulls him off, a tug on his hair.

“Don’t you dare,” Alex huffs, “no marks. Anywhere. Not before you meet the team.”

Grinning, Dylan kisses him one more time, closed-mouth and quick. “Yes, dear.”

“Behave,” Alex warns, one last time. But then he sighs, and leans in one more time. One more chaste kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you like you can’t even imagine,” Dylan agrees.

“Well,” Alex winks, “I’ll make it up to you. Lemme take you home.”

Dylan laughs, bright and loud and perfect to Alex’s ears.

 

~

 

It’s a little weird, walking into something that so very much belongs to Alex. Not just the apartment, the city, the actual places. The _life_ of it all. This is Alex’s world, and Dylan has been invited to join it.

“So this is the notorious Dylan Strome, huh,” John Hayden says when they walk into practice. There’s no one else here yet. Alex had claimed that he wanted to get there early so Dylan could get the feel of the place, but Dylan had seen him continuously steal glances out the window, surveying the streets. It took them way longer than was probably necessary to Alex to drive through the wet roads. Some things never change.

“Hayden, right?” Dylan shakes his hand.

“Yup,” John grins. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Cat here.”

The nickname doesn’t place at first, but then Dylan remembers. He looks at Alex, who seems to realize what exactly Dylan’s thinking. “They actually call you _Cat_?”

“Whoops, sorry, dude,” John says to Alex, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

Alex sighs. “Yes, Dylan, they do.”

Dylan grins wickedly. “Here, kitty, kitty—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Alex goes bright red, all the way to the tops of his ears. Dylan knows him enough now to know it has to spread all the way down his chest, blotchy. The image is nice.

“Trust me, we do that all the time, he hates it,” and that’s a new voice, deeper, from behind him. “Hi Dylan, I’m Jonathan Toews.”

“We call him Tazer,” John supplies helpfully from his stall.

“Oh, hi Jona— Tazer,” it feels weird on his lips, especially after he’s heard it from Alex’s time and time and time again. He shakes Jonny’s hand, accepts it when he pats his back.

“I’m your captain, and I know you have the Cat but if you need anything, I’m only a text away.” He pulls out his phone, pokes at the screen with his pointer fingers. “Here, let me get you number—”

“It’s cool, Taze,” Alex pipes up, appearing at his side, phone already whipped out. “I’ll just send him your contact.”

“Oh,” Dylan says. “Yeah, no worries, I’ll shoot you a text right now.”

He saves the contact Alex sends him (does his best to ignore that the contact name is _papa hawk_ like, what the fuck, Al) and shoots off a text, just his name.

“Cool,” Jonny nods when the text appears, satisfied. “We’ll have to do lunch this week.”

“Sure, that’d be cool,” Dylan smiles.

“Awesome,” Jonny nods, pocketing his phone. “Welcome to the Chicago Blackhawks.”

Alex knocks their shoulders together, grinning wide and so sincere. So just, fucking happy.

“Yeah, Dyl,” Alex beams.

Dylan grins right back, a mirror image. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to the team.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> haters can suck my dick 😘
> 
>    
> edit: I wrote this literally an hour after the trade news broke so please suspend a little reality with the details of who knew what and when things happened (but the canon is still pretty cute ngl)  
>  edit 2: de-anon'd and locked on 11/28/2018  
> 


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